


Doll

by brii



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Gen, M/M, just a tidbit of blood and gore mention for those who are squeamish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brii/pseuds/brii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you ever feel like you know someone only in a dream? (highly experimental, sorry if its too surreal to be proper leopika unu)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doll

As soon as Leorio had realized he was dreaming, he would find a little boy dressed in blue and yellow clothes staring at him.

The boy looked the same every time. Leorio never had a clear picture of him when he was awake, but the boy was so vibrant and vivid in his dreams. The little boy would always _stare_ at Leorio, very still.

The first time Leorio could remember having a dream with the boy in it was when he was small. He thought the boy was Pietro. Leorio called his name, hoping that even in a dream he would hear his voice one last time. He called repeatedly, sounding angrier each time, until he was screaming. It was only when he woke up he realized it was not his lost friend. The dream was too soon.

The dream was so infrequent that Leorio had usually forgotten about the boy until he appeared again, unexpected and staring, silent. Leorio never dreaded or feared when he saw him--unless he was drenched in blood or missing an eye, which happened every once in a while. The boy always looked troubled, like he was hiding something behind his gaze. Leorio tried asking him something once--he couldn't remember what it was when he woke up.

Sometimes Leorio didn't see the boy, but he could hear the boy's airy, smooth voice in his dream. He didn't know _how_ it was the boy's voice, but for some untouchable reason, in the dream Leorio _knew_ it was him. He wasn't sure what kind of voice it was. Sometimes it was angry, sometimes it was soft and flaky, slowly crumbling into nothing. It never sounded like a little boy, but Leorio knew it was him.

One time, Leorio only saw the backside of the little boy. That was the first dream Leorio remembered being scared of the boy, even though he was not threatening in any way. He sat with his legs crossed, forearms on his thighs. His back and sides heaved and trembled, and Leorio wondered if he was crying. _Fate made this tragedy for us,_ the boy's voice said, and then Leorio woke up.

For a long time Leorio considered counseling. Because by now, being fifteen, Leorio couldn't get the little boy out of his head. The boy was ageless and constant--the same fucking story every time. He knew normal people didn't dream this way, unless they had been traumatized. And if Leorio was traumatized, he wouldn't be seeing that foreign, unrecognizable little boy he had never seen before.

One night, when Leorio tried to stay up on energy drinks and campy game shows, he passed out on his worn sofa. He knew what he would dream of, so this time he looked for the little boy.

The little boy always found him first. Leorio turned around and saw him. This time he was covered in chains. He looked straight at Leorio, his expression neutral and his form stagnant.

Leorio walked up to him, his years adding to his height. He had to look down on him.

The boy's blond hair was brushed back, as if someone had brushed it over his forehead. His eyes glowed softly, a dark scarlet, and his skin was sheet white, and shone like porcelain. _A doll_ , Leorio thought. _How pretty._

 _I am not a doll,_ said a voice that didn't come from the boy, but was the boy's voice. _Neither were they._

Leorio woke up.

\--

There was a small cafe Leorio decided to settle in. It was the end of the day and his knees hurt from walking. He sighed in comfort when he sat down and he let his muscles relax. The cafe was quiet. All he could hear was soft chitter than the occasional clangs of pottery and utensils. Leorio sat towards the window, taking in the view and sipping the brandy he ordered. Occasionally he would check around to see who was inside. He wasn't feeling too adventurous this evening, it just felt good to know his surroundings.

He watched someone enter the cafe by themselves. A medium looking man, dressed in bizarre clothing, a large tabard with red stripes along the front and back. Leorio watched him suspiciously as he sat down, isolated from the rest of the customers, and was very upright and still, looking through his menu.

He was blond and ice-skinned. He looked too young-faced to be of any threat, and Leorio's hunch wasn't that large anyway.

But maybe it was because Leorio stared too long, or he just _couldn't_ look away, like he was trying to match a name with a person--the man looked his way suddenly, blank-faced except for the very slight rise in his brows.

_Wait a minute._

The eyes didn't glow like in his dreams (his countless, frustration inducing dreams) but they were his, the boy's, this _guy's_ this--this _person_. It matched like he was trying to match two cards together.

Leorio's mouth went dry and his eyes bulged from his head. The man gave him an uncomfortable look, darting his eyes up and down Leorio's frame.

 _Wait._ Leorio shot up from the table, knocking it backwards and nearly spilling the brandy. Everyone chirped in disturbance and laid eyes on Leorio. Leorio felt adrenaline running in his body, not from the humiliation, but from the _thrill_ of figuring out a puzzle that he had been trying to decipher for years. "Hey," he nearly shouted, daring to take a step forward. The man bristled in (understandable) alarm. "Hey, hey," Leorio lowered his tone. He pointed his finger at the man.

"I..." he gulped, "I _know_ you," he almost whispered.


End file.
